Despite my dislike for suburbia, and, particularly, the endlessly similar towns of Silicon Valley, I have to admit that some of the countryside is astonishingly beautiful this time of year. If you've only ever visited Silicon Valley via the better known highway 101, then you may have missed the gorgeous drive down 280. You drive through green hills dotted with oak and sycamore trees, and past small lakes.

In the Summer, the scenery loses its lustre, for me, since the lack of rain parches the grass and trees to a monotone. But on days like yesterday, right after a rain storm, where the remaining blue and yellow thunder clouds are racked up chaotically over the hills, sometimes spilling down into the valleys, it's worth seeing. It reminds me much of England, particularly the lone trees standing leafless against the sky, and the occasional horse, munching grass.

I spent the day, though, in Redwood City, which is a bit of a dump, to be honest, working at a customer's site with my friend Mark. It was only at the end of the day, after I'd driven over to Jed's place in Palo Alto, gotten changed, and taken off running down the road towards the hill where the Stanford Radio Telescope sits, that I noticed again how beautiful the area is. The ground was still wet, and you could smell damp fern, and hear doves cooing.

Unfortunately, they'd closed the entrance to the hills, so I had to settle for running down Junipero Sierra, a fairly busy road through the hills and suburbs. But I was remembering the first time I went on to those hills; it was my second real date with Jed. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever recounted how things got started with Jed.

On our first real date, we went for a great dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, named Woodwards Garden. Things went fine over dinner, and I invited Jed to come home with me "to listen to music" (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more). But, from there, things became a little awkward. We sat rather rigidly on the sofa, neither of us quite knowing whether to make a move or not. Eventually, Jed made a move, alright: he said that it was time for him to leave. So I showed him to the door, and we both stared at each other, I'd guess that we were both wondering if we should kiss or not. But the evening ended with no meeting of the lips, and I flung myself on my bed with a groan of embarrassment.

For our second real date, we decided to go hiking. Jed picked the place - it was a state park (I think) that he knew up in the Los Altos Hills. It was a gorgeous, hot, Northern California late summer day, and we drove into the hills with the top down on my jeep. And we drove, and drove ... and drove. The park was a lot further away than Jed remembered, and as the innumerable hairpin turns up the hill (from which there were no views on account of the trees) followed each other, Jed began to apologize that the drive was so long. We made it to the park eventually, and ... well, it was a bit of a disappointment. There were no views here either - just hiking trails through the woods, and lots and lots of people.

We chose the most promising trail (leading to "the Falls"), and, admittedly, it was pleasant to walk in the shaded undergrowth with a cute boy I was getting to know. We made it to the Falls (which might more aptly be named "the Trickles"), and sat for our rather pathetic picnic of cheddar cheese, over dry pieces of chicken, and seedless grapes.

On our way back to the car, I said something about this being the first time I'd been on three dates with a guy without kissing him. So we, err, kissed, and it was rather like the scene in the movie "A Room With a View", where Daniel Day-Lewis kisses Helena Bonham-Carter for the first time, and his spectactles get in the way of an excrutiatingly awkward first kiss. Only the obstacle in this case was the large height differential between Jed and I.

Anyway. Since this hike had been something of a dead loss, we drove back to Palo Alto and went for a walk up the hill whose peak was crowned with the Stanford Radio Telescope. And things finally started to come together for us. It was gorgeous up there, with a hot blue sky arching overhead, and the uncrowded hill leaving us the space to expand our conversations into more intimate areas.

That magic moment ocurred. You know, that moment where you suddenly can't help smiling at each other as you each realize that the other guy really likes you! We went back to Jed's place, and finally made out - all hot, smelly and sweaty from our day outside, but who cared! Well, at least, who cared ... except for Jed's horrible straight roommate, who kept rumbling around, making obvious banging noises to express his discontent at hearing a couple of guys moaning with pleasure (I think I was doing most of the moaning) in the room next door.